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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29254491">The Loneliness of Man</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleFlowerGardener/pseuds/PurpleFlowerGardener'>PurpleFlowerGardener</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Mandalorian (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, I'm Sorry, Multi, No beta reader only grammarly lol, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, The Mandalorian (TV) Season 2, Ugh I haven't posted on AO3 in like. a year. I've forgotten how to tag</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:07:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,952</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29254491</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleFlowerGardener/pseuds/PurpleFlowerGardener</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Prin Grenshire is running away from her problems. Her ship fails just outside of Mos Pelgo, where she's forced to live for a while. Then, a Mandalorian who reminds her of a ghost comes to town.</p><p>I suck at tagging and also summaries, apparently. There will be spoilers of season 2. Most of it follows the timeline of the show, but I've added some time between events. </p><p>Mature for violence, references to traumatic events, and possibly sex. I haven't decided about that last part yet.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Daphne’s Disagreeable Sister-In-Law, Tatooine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I woke up from a bittersweet dream with stinging eyes. I had been dreaming about my siblings, on the day my little sister had been born. Shepherd was 13-years-old when Marigold was born. It was mid-morning, and my brother and I had been sitting outside my mother’s chambers for half an hour. I was only 8, and I began to squirm with the wait. Shepherd took my hand and quieted me. Not long after that, my father had opened the doors to my mother’s bedroom and invited my brother and me inside, as long as we promised to be very quiet. We sat next to my mother in her bed. We couldn’t see Marigold yet, she was just a bundle of white cotton blankets in my mother’s arms. We leaned close, and her little face peaked out of the blankets, chubby with baby fat, pink and tear-stained, and sleeping. The whole room was bathed in gold, and my mother looked like a warrior. Tired, but strong. This was before I had to deal with the realization that we are all mortal, fallible things. At that moment, my mother looked like a radiant goddess, who had waded through the waters of the afterlife to bring us our little sister. </p><p>It was a bittersweet dream because I hadn’t seen anyone who showed up in that dream for a very long time. Not my parents, not Marigold, and not Shepherd. It had been a year since I’d seen my parents and Marigold, and five years since I’d seen Shepherd. It was bittersweet because the dream reunited me with the people I had once loved with all my heart. It was bittersweet because it reminded me of all I had lost.</p><p>When I was finished thinking about my dream, I rubbed my eyes and stretched in my cot. I sat up and looked around my room, a tan walled cube with a small window near the ceiling with a wicker cover instead of a pane of glass. A sliver of light slid from under the window covering and illuminated my clothes, which were haphazardly strewn on the floor. I stood and picked up my black tunic dress, and shook the everpresent dust from the fabric. With the air dustier than it would normally be, had I not shaken out my dress, and so I started coughing into my elbow. I winced at the terrible pulling, ripping feeling from inside my chest. Tatooine was not a good planet for my lungs. When the dust had cleared and my breathing was back to normal, I pulled my dress on over my head. I reached into the folds of my cot and brought out my belt. It was a silver chain that hung around my hips, and from it hung several smaller chains with coins of the same silver, stamped with pictures of women that I had never known. It was the only possession I owned that I would never sell, it was the last gift from my mother, given to me on my 15th birthday. On my homeworld, it was an important gift for a young lady. It marked the beginnings of adulthood, to be trusted with something precious. The women stamped into the coins were queens and other important women in Daphnian culture. When it was given to me, it meant I was at an age where, if I tried hard enough, I could join their ranks. At the time, I’d been optimistic enough to think It was actually possible. I wore the chain when It was safe to do so, which was always in Mos Pelgo. Once, some drunken men had tried to take it from me, but I sent them running pretty quickly. Not even the Marshal, a man named Vanth who didn’t seem to trust me much, didn’t begrudge me protecting what was mine. </p><p>Once I was dressed, I brushed and braided my hair out of my face. My hair had once been light brown, but under the twin suns of Tatooine, it had gotten much lighter. My skin, always rather freckly, had only grown more so in my time spent outside. I didn’t seem to tan, per se, but to pointelize. Once my hair was taken care of, I made my bed, tied my boots, and left my bedroom. It was an old storeroom in the back of the only bar in Mos Pelgo, it had been empty for a long time and so It hadn’t been too difficult to convince the barkeep to let me rent the room. I didn’t have much money, so I’d been cleaning up the bar for the barkeep in exchange for the use of the room. To pay for food, I’d had to begin selling pieces of my ship. It would never fly again, so it made the most sense to scrap the ship and wait for another to come through and pay for a ride out. I couldn’t wait to get off Tatooine. </p><p>I walked into the empty bar, got the broom, and swept the place. Then I cleaned off the tables and the bar as best I could. I wiped the windows of as much dust as I could. All of this I did using as little water as possible. Can I just say, breaking from the story I'm telling, you don’t know how wonderful the rain is until you’ve lived on Tatooine.</p><p>Once I was finished, I ate lunch in my room and grabbed a work bag from the corner and headed out to my ship. It was at the edge of town, behind some old woman’s house. Looking at it always made me sad. It had once been a beautiful ship, small but fast. Perfect for me. And my father, he’d painted “Prin’s Planet Jumper” on one side. He’d given me the ship on my 12th birthday. I wasn’t allowed to use it outside Daphne’s atmosphere until I was 18, but still. A ship to a 12-year-old is like giving a child a key to every candy and toy store in the known universe. It pained me to dismantle it. And it got more and more painful to do so as it got more and more sparse. That day, it was barely bones and a pressure hull. </p><p>I looked around for a while, but it quickly became clear that the only thing inside the ship that I could loot was the brains of my ship. I got into the computer compartment, delicately removed the motherboard and memory, and I wrapped them in soft paper and slipped them into a side pocket in my bag. Then I took the rest of it apart, taking care not to harm any of it. Once I was finished with that, I took apart the computer compartment and surveyed the inside of my ship. There was nothing but the pressure hull left. No doors, no floor, no front window. Just the metal that kept the air inside the ship and the space out. </p><p>I sat in the valley that the hull made and looked up at the clear blue sky above. I sat for a long time, wrestling with my thoughts. My mind returned to my dream, seeing Shepherd’s young face so clearly had unsettled me. That my mind would deliver such a gut punch to me in the middle of the night felt like a betrayal of myself. I tried so hard not to think about Shepherd, or Marigold, or my parents. It was like my brain was directing me to think about all that hurt the most in my sleep. Sabotaging my unconscious self.</p><p>I closed my eyes and breathed for a while. I hurt. My body ached. But mostly my mind hurt. I wished I could crawl into my mother’s arms, I wish Shepherd was there to tell me I wasn’t going to live the rest of my life on Tatooine. It was getting harder and harder to hear myself say it, if I’d heard Shepherd say it, I could be sure that it was true. When I was scared to go to school, Shepherd had knelt down to my height, put a hand on my shoulder, and told me I’d do fine. When I confessed to him that I liked a boy in my class, he’d encouraged me to tell the boy how I felt. And when I was afraid to learn to fly, he jumped into my ship just behind the driver’s seat and told me he trusted me.</p><p>I opened my stinging eyes and looked up at the sky. I forced myself to see the similarities in that desert sky to the sky on Daphne. It was the same shade of blue, a clear and cold color. And thinking about that helped. I sat still, looking at the sky for a long time. I sank into some kind of waking sleep, a calm only found in the eye of a hurricane. </p><p>I was jolted from my near coma by a shaking from deep within the earth. A sickening metallic groan from all around me, and a horrible, almost piggish wailing traveling nearby. I tried to stand, but my ship was sinking around me, I heard the landing struts snap in the sand and I was momentarily suspended in the air as my ship fell into the sand. I used my momentary flight to scramble out the open front window and climb on top of my ship. Traveling down the main road was the Krayt Dragon. I couldn’t see it for the moment, it was still under the sand, but I could tell where it was moving. I watched down the street where the moving of the sand stopped. Suddenly a huge thing exploded from the sand and a bantha disappeared into the giant dragon’s mouth. And almost as suddenly as it had come, the creature was gone. And I was knee-deep in sand. </p><p>Realizing that I’d just lost the pressure hull of my ship, my eyes stung again. I rubbed at them, knowing that I didn’t have much water to spare for crying. I pulled my legs out of the sand, laid a hand on my work bag, and sighed. At least I had a little left to sell. But unless I found some other way of making money, I was gonna get real thin real quick. I started back towards the bar, there would probably be work in there for me. The Krayt Dragon had probably shaken the sand out of the rafters. Maybe the barkeep would pay a little extra for help cleaning it up. </p><p>All around town people were fixing things. Some parts of the wooden walkway on each side of the road had been shaken out of place, and I stopped once to hand a lady replacing the slats a board that had fallen off into the sand where she couldn’t reach. </p><p>Outside the bar was the Marshal. He went there somewhat often, but I was pretty sure it was more a social obligation rather than him being an alcoholic. The bar was the biggest indoor space in town, so it was the natural gathering point for many people. So it wasn’t unusual to see Vanth there. What was unusual, however, was his companion. A man, at least it looked like one, standing in full shiny Mandalorian armor. Vanth wore the same type of armor, but his had once been painted and had since chipped away. It looked a lot like Mos Pelgo, old and battered. And Vanth wasn’t wearing the helmet, it was too hot for it. But the stranger was. His gaze fell on me, and my heartbeat quickened. He was a stranger. He must have a ship. </p><p>“You doing alright, Grenshire?” Marshal Vanth asked and I nodded. He was looking at me worriedly, and for some reason, it pissed me off. Whenever anyone, well, whenever any man spoke to me with genuine care for my safety, alarm bells went off in my head.</p><p>“I am not injured,” I replied. I felt very stiff. Vanth tilted his head the slightest bit.</p><p>“You sure? You look upset,” He pushed. My anger flared again. He’d been trying to get me to tell him where I was from since I’d landed on Tatooine. It was annoying. He wasn’t my father. In the past few weeks, whenever he’d asked for my backstory, I’d told him a different tail each time. None of which had been true. </p><p>“I was sitting in the empty pressure hull of my ship, about to get to work popping the sorry thing, when the Krayt Dragon came through. My ship was just above its path, and now it’s yay-deep-” I said, and pointed at my knee. “In sand. And all I have left of my ship to pawn off is a few computer parts. I am upset. Does that satisfy your insatiable curiosity about my life, Marshal Vanth?”</p><p>“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Vanth said, but I shook my head. </p><p>“Please stop,” I said. Vanth sighed and put his hands out in front of him. </p><p>“If you need money, I can-” </p><p>“Please!” I said, louder than I meant to. I got a hold of myself and looked at Vanth’s boots. “I’m sorry. Look, I got a bag of computer parts and a place to live. And I got two working arms and legs and a brain. I will be fine.”</p><p>I looked over at the Mandalorian, who had been glancing between Vanth and myself for the whole conversation. I looked between the two of them. Neither moved.</p><p>“I need to get into the bar,” I said. Realizing they were in my way, both men slid to either side of the door. I stepped up onto the wooden sidewalk and through the doorway into the bar, where it was dark and warm rather than hot, and where it needed serious dusting.</p><p>---</p><p>Marshal Vanth called a meeting the next night. The Mandalorian and Vanth had gone off into the distance on speeder bikes after I’d freaked out at him. I wondered if they’d talked about me once they were gone. Like, ‘hey, who was that crazy bitch who yelled at you back there?’ ‘that’s just the town vagabond, Prin Grenshire. She seems to be utterly unwilling to accept affection if it’s coming from a man.’ ‘How odd! I will avoid her and definitely not invite her onto my ship so that she can seek a better life!’</p><p>No, Marshal Vanth wouldn’t call me a vagabond. And if the Mandalorian had called me a crazy bitch, he’d have gone to bat for me. He’d dress up my problems nicer than ‘crazy bitch’ and ‘vagabond.’ He’d say I was down on my luck and possibly a bit hurt, and that all I needed to become an upstanding member of society was time and understanding. He’d say I didn’t take help from him because some man in my past had done me wrong, and I’d come around in time. He’d talk about me like a dog that had been kicked by its previous owners and snapped at anyone who tried to get close. </p><p>I guess that last description isn’t too far from the truth. </p><p>“This here’s a Mandalorian, know what that means?” The Marshal had said. I was sitting in the corner with a few other girls my age, listening. The air in the bar was thick with sand and sweat, and the room was tense. The Marshal never called a meeting like this unless it was deeply important. I got to thinking about the Mandalorian standing beside the Marshal. I had heard him talking to Vanth, so I knew it was a guy. His armor was in good shape, I wondered idly what it would take to get my hands on some armor like his. </p><p>There was a murmur in the crowd and I came back into the moment, listening to what the Marshal had to say.</p><p>“But I got a problem too,” Vanth was saying. He gestured out the bar’s open door and continued. “The Krayt Dragon has been peeling off our pack animals and sometimes taking our mining haul with it. It’s just a matter of time before it grows tired of banthas and goes after a couple of you townsfolk, or even, so help us, the school. As much as I’ve grown fond of this armor, I’m even more fond of this town. The Mandalorian is willing to help us slay the leviathan, in exchange for returnin’ the armor to its ancestral owners.”</p><p>Someone in the crowd, I didn’t get a good look, said; “Well, that settles it.”</p><p>Vanth got a pained look and said; “There's more. We can’t take on the Krayt alone,” He said, shaking his head a little. “And the Sand people are-”</p><p>Everyone in the room started making noise all at once. Everyone seemed upset, the men were angry and yelling, the women sitting near me began holding onto each other. One girl grabbed my hand so hard I couldn’t have yanked it away if I tried. It was like Vanth had betrayed everyone in the room, and no one was going to let him get away with it without voicing their upset. The room finally quieted when The Mandalorian stepped forward.</p><p>“I’ve seen the size of that thing. It will swallow your entire town when the fancy hits it. You’re lucky Mos Pelgo isn’t a sand field already. I know these people, they are brutal; but so is the dune sea. They’ve survived for thousands of years in these sands, and they know the Krayt Dragon better than anyone here. They are raiders, it’s true, but they also keep their word,” The Mandalorian said, looking around the room in wide arks. He paused for a moment and said; “We have struck a deal. If we are willing to leave them the carcass and its ichor, they will stand by our side in battle, and vow to never raise a blaster against this town until one of you breaks the peace.” </p><p>And just like that, it was decided. Vanth started advising the townspeople on how to load weapons into repulsorcraft efficiently. And I sat in the bar, feeling bad about yelling at him. I left the bar when I heard the voices of the people outside change. Stretching for as far as my eye could see was a line of banthas with Tusken Raiders sitting on their backs. The tension in the people of Mos Pelgo was palpable. </p><p>All the able-bodied people went with the Sand People. I found myself among them. I was on the team that brought bombs off the banthas backs and put them into the trench dung into the sand. The open mouth of the abandoned Sarlacc pit rumbled softly like the dragon was snoring. It radiated an unnatural cold, I guess that’s why it liked the pit.</p><p>And all the while, I watched the Mandalorian from a distance. There was something off about him. He always had his son with him, the little green big-eyed and eared thing. It was cute, but it made me wonder what the Mandalorian looked like under his helmet. And something else about him intrigued me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. With his strange mix of all-around competence and good sense, I’d assumed I’d dislike him in the blanket “responsible adult male” way I do. But the claxons hadn’t gone off in my head yet, and he was still likely the best chance I’d get to get off the planet. </p><p>I watched the Krayt Dragon come out of his cave. It was an unholy birth, a blind, hollering creature wailing in a way that shook me to the bone. And then it tried to go back in, and I was roused to action. I ran forward with the other townspeople and the raiders, I threw grenades at the thing, and all the while I was laughing. I have never had as much fun as I did, throwing grenades at a giant, could-eat-you-whole sand dragon. And then, I never knew such abundant fear as when it reared up and charged. I ran so quickly and so lightly that my old coach would have been proud. But I didn’t run fast enough really, none of us could. At least I wasn’t one of the ones who was literally dissolved by the Krayt Dragon’s vomit. A little got me in the back, I still have a scar where it got me, just between my shoulder blades, in the shape of a round-tipped star.</p><p>I ran to the edges of the valley with the other wounded and watched the dragon pop up from the mountain top, spew more of its acid down on Raiders and townsfolk alike. I watched as the Marshal and the Mandalorian flew up to the top of the mountain and shoot at it, I watched the Mandalorian stand his ground as the dragon charged. I watched as he disappeared along with a bantha loaded down with explosives into the dragon’s mouth and then into the ground. I held my breath along with everyone else, waiting to see what would happen. And I cheered and screamed along with everyone else when the Mandalorian rocketed from the beast’s maw, not looking back at the monster as it exploded, as all cool guys do.</p><p>As the fight wound down, I rested. A woman applied a salve to my back, I’d need a new tunic dress. This one was barely holding. The woman stitched the parts that she could salvage together, but my dress was going to be open-backed until I could patch it or replace it. Once that was done, I helped tend to the wounded. A few minutes in, I looked up and saw the Mandalorian speaking to Marshal Vanth while sitting on his speeder. It was now or never. </p><p>I started jogging towards the men, but quickly picked up when I read in their body language that they were wrapping it up. I was still a good distance away when I heard the speeder fire up.</p><p>“Wait!” I shouted, while also gasping for air. The Mandalorian didn’t hear me, but Vanth did and put a hand on the Mandalorian’s shoulder. He looked back at me. I ran up and breathed for a second.</p><p>“I need-” Gasp. “-A ride off-” wheeze. “-Off-world. I can-” I should do more cardio. “I can pay. I don’t have a lot but I can pay a little.” Ok, almost there. “I don’t take up much space.”</p><p>The Mandalorian looked at me as I finished my spiel. He didn’t respond, he just looked at me. I got nervous and looked down at his speeder. I wasn’t expecting it, but I made eye contact with his son. </p><p>I cannot lie. My jaw dropped and my eyes turned into hearts. The baby cooed and shyly and looked away from me, and then back, and smiled. I let out an involuntary whisper- “ohmygosh.”</p><p>“What?” The Mandalorian asked. He leaned away from me a little, surprised.</p><p>“I just- Uh,” I paused, glancing from the baby to the Mandalorian and back. “Well, what I said was ‘oh my gosh.’ I just- uh, I’ve never seen your kid up close before and he is very adorable.” </p><p>Vanth smiled and chuckled, and the Mandalorian relaxed. The tension was almost entirely gone. </p><p>“Can- can I hold him, Mr. Mandalorian?” I asked hesitantly. </p><p>“As long as you don’t ever call me that  _ever again_”</p><p>Marshal Vanth threw his head back and cackled. I smiled and laughed a little. I bent down towards the baby. </p><p>“Can I hold you?” I whispered to the child. I felt both Vanth and the Mandalorian’s eyes on me, but I did my best to ignore them. The baby reached his arms up and made another adorable baby noise, I grinned and picked him up from his satchel. I smiled at him for a while, then I looked up at Vanth and the Mandalorian, who were both still watching me. “He’s 10 times cuter than my baby sister ever was.”</p><p>“Don’t tell her that,” Vanth said and I smiled.</p><p>“Nah, she’d understand,” I said. I booped the baby on the nose and he giggled and grabbed my finger. But I wasn’t looking at the baby anymore. I was inside my head, thinking about my dream of the night before. I looked over at Vanth, who had noticed the change in my mood. I turned to him. “I really am sorry for how- mean, I guess, I’ve been. I know you don’t deserve it. You’re a good man, Vanth.”</p><p>Vanth smiled and nodded in acknowledgment. “Thank you. If Mando here decides to take you off-world, will you give in and tell me what brought you to Tatooine?”</p><p>I sighed and looked down at the baby, who was playing with the end of my braid. “Fine,” I said and shifted my weight. I looked over at Mando. “I have 120 alliance credits and a bag of computer parts, and technically I have a pressure hull buried knee-deep in the sand just outside Mos Pelgo. Although that will be a bit difficult to collect.”</p><p>“Where do you want to go?” Mando asked after a pause. I pursed my lips. Daphne. I want to go home. I cannot go home.</p><p>“I don’t know. I want to get to a planet where I can earn enough money to pay rent, feed myself, and start saving for a new ship. Where's got that good an economy?”</p><p>“We’ll figure something out,” The Mandalorian said and I smiled hesitantly.</p><p>“Is, is that a yes?” I asked and Mando nodded. I grinned. “Thanks.”</p><p>Vanth looked at me expectantly. I stopped smiling and gave him a sour look, but then I remembered myself and sighed. “I came to Tatooine by accident. My ship was dying and I was hopping from planet to planet in the hopes that I’d come across somewhere really nice before it died. But I didn’t, and so I crashed outside Mos Pelgo,” I said. </p><p>“And before that?” Vanth asked. I sighed again and looked at my boots.</p><p>“I left home a year ago because someone I loved dearly was killed. And my homeworld only reminded me of their death,” I said. I didn’t look at Vanth. I knew all I’d see was more wretched pity. </p><p>“Where is your homeworld?” Mando asked, and I shook my head at the sand.</p><p>“I don’t want to go back there, and 120 creds won’t get me there on any transport scheme. If I go home any time soon, it’s gonna be in a box and the New Republic will be paying for it,” I replied, Mando made a sound of annoyance. </p><p>“That’s not what I asked. Where are you from?” He pressed. </p><p>“I am a Daphnian commoner, artisan rank,” I replied.</p><p>“I understood ‘bout half of that,” Vanth said. I smiled a little.</p><p>“It means my family is poor but we were taught to speak like rich people. It also means I know how to make fancy jewelry,” I replied and Vanth laughed. I laughed too and finally dared to look back into the men’s faces. And for a moment, it was alright that Vanth reminded me of a more active version of my father.</p><p>There was silence between the three of us. Marshal Vanth was the first to move. </p><p>“Well, I’ve got work to do. I’ll let Earl know you’ll be moving out,” Vanth said and I nodded.</p><p>“Earl…” I said, pursing my lips and nodding. Vanth looked at me askance. </p><p>“You lived in Earl’s backroom for four weeks and never bothered to learn his name?!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Mandalorian Becomes a Taxi Driver</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So, you can take things apart very carefully, and you make fancy jewelry,” Mando said. We were walking through the desert to Mos Eisley, where Mando’s ship was parked. He’d driven the two of us back to Mos Pelgo to get my stuff. I said goodbye to Earl, who had apparently forgotten my name. While normally that would be vaguely upsetting, I can’t say how grateful I was to have been forgotten in that moment. After we’d gotten my stuff from the storeroom, only enough stuff to fill my work satchel. We got back onto his speeder bike, he drove like a fucking maniac, and I held onto the bike for dear life. I did not feel comfortable holding onto the Mandalorian (Trademark, although I assume you wouldn’t share my qualms).</p><p>“Yes,” I said. I was thirsty. I transferred the baby to my left arm and I coughed into my freed elbow. Each cough sent spikes of pain through my head. Mando had been driving through some tall rock formations that had turned into a canyon of sorts. As we broke out of the canyon, some pillager types had yanked a rope between the canyon walls and we’d run into it head-on. The speeder bike had flipped, I’d been tossed at a bad angle, my head hit a rock, and I missed the entire fight. I woke up to two of Mando’s fingers at my neck, feeling for a pulse. I’d shoved him away on impulse and scrambled away before I realized the situation. </p><p>“Any other marketable skills?” the Mandalorian asked. I thought for a moment, the bump on the back of my head was making thought a little harder than before. I prayed it wasn’t permanent.</p><p>“Normal stuff. I can garden, I can be taught to work machinery. Retail,” I said and shrugged. “I’m not bad at fighting and firing blasters. Not as good as you, but I figure I could supplement income mugging people who’ve never been mugged before.”</p><p>“I doubt you could tell who’d never been mugged before,” Mando said and I breathed out my nose violently, you know, to express annoyance. “Where’d you learn to fight?”</p><p>I paused. “My brother, and some teachers. My parents wanted to make sure I had a fair chance against anyone who might want to harm me. It was never my greatest talent, but I know the soft spots on most common types of people. My brother taught me to shoot. I’m only good if I have like 5 minutes to aim and the target is within 50 feet. So yeah, not great at that either,” I replied. Mando made an encumbered shrugging motion. He was carrying the greater part of Vanth’s armor.</p><p>“Better than most people I've met from Daphne. I got the feeling most commoners weren’t anything special,” Mando said and I shrugged. </p><p>“My parents had high hopes for me,” I replied, inwardly smiling at what an understatement that was. “They tried to get me as good an education as possible on their income. It isn’t too uncommon for commoners to marry Barons or Baronesses. More often Barons because they’ve already got the family name. My parents, well, they knew my brother could fend for himself, he had a real good head on his shoulders. He would figure things out. But they wanted more for me, and when my sister was born they wanted more for her too.”</p><p>I paused and looked to Mando to see if he was listening. He seemed to nod a little. “So yeah. Good education, nice clothes,” I said, holding a strand of my silver belt. “Classes on the kinds of skills that royalty like. I can’t balance a checkbook for the life of me but I won embroidery contests when I was younger.”</p><p>Mando looked over at me. “There's such a thing as embroidery contests?” Mando asked, laughter in his voice. I smiled tilted my head a little.</p><p>“Where there are bored housewives and daughters, there are embroidery contests. And baking contests, and impromptu horse races, and jam sessions,” I said, listing the monotony. </p><p>“Jam sessions? Music or condiment?” Mando asked.</p><p>“Both,” I said, and the Mandalorian laughed. Actually laughed, which seemed remarkable for him. It was nice though. I like being able to make people laugh. The baby in my arm laughed too, although I have no idea if he could understand what I was saying. I smiled down at him. “I play the lyre and make a downright mean raspberry compote.”</p><p>---</p><p>We arrived in Mos Eisley after the suns set. For the first time in several weeks, I felt cold. It was a strange mix of unpleasant and refreshing. I could see my breath, which hadn’t been the case in a long time. </p><p>At the edge of Mos Eisley, I immediately knew this town would be better for me than Mos Pelgo ever was. Mos Pelgo never had music, never had frivolous outdoor lighting. Mos Eisley looked happier. And it sounded happy. We walked closer and closer to the edge of town, and I heard a piano playing a song I knew, accompanied by some kind of hand drum. Out of habit, I felt myself aligning my step to be in time with the song. Which earned me a weird look from Mando. </p><p>“Force of habit,” I said, shrugging. Mando looked back towards the town. The baby was sleeping in my arms, and he stirred a little feeling the change in my pace. I forced myself to walk like a normal person, and the baby went back to sleep. He didn’t sleep long however, the bar the Mandalorian picked was noisy enough to wake the kid back up. Unlike a normal baby, he didn’t fuss at the noise. This further cemented the idea in my mind that this baby was better than my little sister ever was as a baby. I followed the Mandalorian through the bar, forcing myself to ignore the music. He stopped next to a table where a giant ant looking fellow and a middle-aged woman with curly hair were playing cards. She glanced at Mando and did a double-take.</p><p>“You finally found a Mandalorian and you killed him?” she asked and glanced at me. “And picked up another wayward child?”</p><p>“He wasn’t Mandalorian, I bought this armor off of him though,” Mando said. </p><p>“And I’m not a kid-” I said, but neither bothered to acknowledge my presence. I sighed. </p><p>“What’d that set you back?”</p><p>“Killed the Krayt Dragon for him.”</p><p>“Oh, is that all?!”</p><p>“He was my last lead on finding other Mandalorians.”</p><p>The ant fellow made some guttural clicking noises, that I took to mean “I have information but I do not speak Common.” Because of course, I don’t speak ant-person.</p><p>“Well, you might be in luck, Dr. Mandible here says he can connect you with someone who can help you. IF, you cover his call this round,” the woman said. Mando shifted his weight. </p><p>“What’s the bet?” the Mandalorian asked, the woman balked for a moment and cleared her throat.</p><p>“...500,” She said, and I coughed. Again, everyone at the table glanced at me, but said nothing.</p><p>“That’s a high stakes game.”</p><p>“Hey, he’s on a hot streak.”</p><p>The ant gentleman clicked some more, Mando sighed and tossed a small bag of credits onto the table. The two finished their game, the woman apparently won. </p><p>“I thought you said he was on a hot streak.” </p><p>“Oh, stop your crying, you’ll rust.”</p><p>---</p><p>We ended up back in Peli Motto’s hanger, cooking dragon meat. I sat on some boxes against one wall, fiddling with the computer parts I had. It was nice to keep my mind busy with work, and seeing what I could do with the parts was nice. It was almost an entirely useless exercise however, it meant nothing if I had no power source. I was just rearranging a dead brain. I wondered what it would take to outfit a droid with the pieces from my ship, how the droid would behave. It would be an interesting test. </p><p>Peli Motto shouted something to the droid cooking the meat, and I looked up briefly to access the situation. Mando and I had loaded the Marshal’s armor into his ship, and the kid was watching the meat cook. I was inside my head, not listening to the conversation until I heard something about not using the hyperdrive. I looked up from my tinkering and saw a frog person with a backpack-fishtank step out from inside Peli’s workroom. The Frog lady walked over to Mando and Peli, and they spoke for a while in quiet tones. The frog lady walked into Mando’s ship, the Razor Crest, followed closely by the child, who apparently no longer cared about the meat. </p><p>“Hey kid, we’re going to Trask,” Mando shouted at me. I nodded and stowed the computer parts. I walked up to Mando, who was standing with Peli. </p><p>“What’s Trask like?” I asked. Peli smiled.</p><p>“Wet,” She said. “Rainy.” </p><p>“Perfect,” I said and laughed. Mando turned from us and walked up the ramp. Motto cut a piece from the dragon lump.</p><p>“You want some?” She asked. I shrugged, I’d never had dragon meat before.</p><p>“Sure, thank you,” I replied, and she handed me the piece. Upon examination, I realized she’d cut a, shall we say, well-done part of the chunk to me. She smirked when she saw the realization in my eyes.</p><p>“Have a safe flight,” she said and I smiled.</p><p>“Thanks,” I replied. “I hope you enjoy the parts of the meat that aren’t vaguely charcolish.”</p><p>“Hey,” Mando called from the top of the ramp. I shook hands with Peli Motto and walked up the ramp. I held up the chunk of Dragon meat.</p><p>“Want some?” I asked and The Mandalorian shook his head. “Well, I’m sure the kid will like it.”</p><p>“He does like, ah, proteins,” He replied and I raised an eyebrow. With my free hand I made the universal, ‘go on’ gesture. Mando sighed. “Live frog, once.”</p><p>“Well it’s a good thing your other passenger isn’t small enough to get into his mouth,” I said. Mando nodded, not realizing I was making an attempt at humor. Then I looked inside the ship and saw the frog woman looking at me strangely. I waved a little, then pointed at the dragon meat. “You want some charred sand dragon??”</p><p>---</p><p>It quickly became clear that Mando didn’t share a language with the frog woman, although she understood our Common. Mando tried several spoken languages, none of which she seems to know back. Looking at the shape of her mouth, I wasn’t sure any words she could make would make any sense to us. I tried a few I knew, all from planets near Daphne, but again none worked. Soon enough, we gave up. </p><p>“This is going to take a while,” Mando eventually said. I’d been dozing a little, looking out at the infinite darkness of space. The rumble of his ship was very soothing, so when he began to speak I jolted out of the land before sleep. He turned his pilot’s seat towards the frog woman and me. “I recommend you get some rest.” </p><p>The Mandalorian unbuckled his seatbelt and disappeared from sight through the hatch down into the belly of his ship. The fish woman and I shared a look. She croaked at me, but I shrugged. Then, an idea came to me. I held out my hands, and made the Common sign language gesture for ‘hello.’</p><p>Her eyes got wide and her tympanum undulated on the side of her head. I grinned.</p><p>‘Hello!’ she signed back. ‘I am Misty!’ </p><p>‘Hello, Misty! I am Prin Grenshire.’ I had to spell my name in Common because there wasn’t a direct translation for it. Misty had one, so her introduction was far more quick. </p><p>We talked for a little while. She told me about her husband and her work. I asked what she would name her children. She listed off several that all sounded nice to me. But we got tired, and I drifted off again. My sleep was very light, I never fully lost consciousness. I have a hard time sleeping in a sitting position. Shadows of men and women I’d known on Daphne danced in the darkness of my half-sleep. I heard a faint piano song, and I felt myself dancing with them. We danced a simple step routine I’d known my whole life. </p><p>I was jerked out of my darkened state by a strange warning beep that I didn’t know the meaning of. I spent several moments in sheer terror, a reduced mind experiencing what felt like the end of the world. The Mandalorian jumped up from the cargo hold of his ship and was in his seat after a few seconds, but in the moment it felt like ages before he silenced the alarm. My mind was addled and so for a few more seconds, I didn’t know what was happening. But he made the sound stop and began speaking with someone in a different ship.</p><p>“We notice your transponder isn’t emitting.”</p><p>“Yes, I’m pre-empire surplus. I’m not required to run a beacon.”</p><p>“That was before. This sector is under New Republic jurisdiction. All craft are required to run a beacon.”</p><p>“Thank you for letting me know,” Mando replied, sounding vaguely sarcastic. I hadn’t been sure before if that was something he understood. “I’ll get right on it.”</p><p>“Not a problem. Safe travels.”</p><p>I relaxed. Had put two and two together, it was just some border patrol of some kind. I settled back into my chair and closed my eyes.</p><p>“May the Force be with you.” </p><p>“And also with you.”</p><p>There was silence for a beat, then the radioed voice said; “Just one more thing.”</p><p>“Yes?” Mando sighed. </p><p>“We need you to send us a ping. We’re out here sweeping for Imperial holdouts.”</p><p>“I’ll let you know if I see any.”</p><p>“I’m still gonna need you to send us that ping.”</p><p>“I’m not sure I have that hardwear online,” Mando said, shifting in his seat. I had opened my eyes again when the radio people hadn’t shut up and gone away, so I could see just how tense the Mandalorian looked.</p><p>“We can wait.”</p><p>“Yeah I uh, it doesn’t seem to be uh, working.”</p><p>“That's too bad,” The man on the other end of the line sighed dramatically. “If we can’t confirm you're not Imperial, You’ll have to follow us to the outpost at Adelphi. They’ll run your tabs.”</p><p>“Oh wait, there it is!” Mando flipped a switch on his dash. I was impressed with how annoyed he sounded and felt glad that I wasn’t the one he was angry at. “Transmitting now.”</p><p>The frog woman woke up and squawked a little, and Mando and I shushed her in unison.</p><p>“What’s that?” the radio asked.</p><p>“Uh, n-nothing. The hypervac is drawing off the exhaust manifold.” </p><p>A beep. The man who’d been talking to Mando said a name I couldn’t quite catch. “Can you switch over to channel two?”</p><p>“Copy,” The other pilot said. I hadn’t been aware that there were two until he had spoken.</p><p>A beat of silence, then a movement caught my eye. Everyone in the cab looked out the right window and saw the X-wing unfolding. Then, the one on the left unfolded. <br/>“<br/>Was your craft in the vicinity of New Republic correctional transport-” Tinny, un-understandable name. There was a beat of silence, and then Mando jerked the steering yoke to one side and down, and gunned the engines. I squeaked, but Misty the frog woman hollered. We plummeted towards a cloudy planet, and before I knew it we were flying through clouds. </p><p>“Razor Crest, stand down!” one of the X-wing pilots shouted, but it was harder to pick out than before. Space is quiet. Now we had an atmosphere to shake the ship. “We’ll fire! I repeat, we will fire!”</p><p>The Mandalorian leaned forward on the controls. One hand on the yoke, the other dancing across the dashboard. We sored, we dodged, we plummeted through the clouds. Misty screamed, I can’t say I didn’t as well. Although I like to think it was less noticeable than Misty’s. The Mandalorian was silent. I watched out the window as we descended into a canyon of ice. I found myself remembering how we’d been tossed from his speeder bike in the canyon on Tatooine. I held onto my seatbelt for dear life, but part of me was enjoying the ride. I’d always loved doing silly tricks and dumb stunts in my ship when it wasn’t just a pressure hull buried on Tatooine. Riding the Mandalorian’s ship between two nearly vertical walls of ice, dogging pillars and spikes all around, it was like the best roller coaster you could ever imagine. And while I did scream in fear, I also laughed at a couple points. Misty gave me a weird look and signed something like; “What the fuck, Prin.”</p><p>And I only smiled at her. I didn’t want to take my hands off my seatbelt. </p><p>It was fun until Mando piloted us into a cave in the ice too fast, sliding off the side of an ice wall while the ship made, shall we say, terrifying noises.</p><p>“Hold on,” the Mandalorian commanded. Misty and I did as we were told. We slid out of the cave and over a flat plain of ice backward as Mando desperately tried to slow us down by firing the engine away from where we were going. It didn’t seem to work very well. We finally bounced off an ice wall and the ship was still. The Mandalorian was panting and so was I. We all looked at each other for a moment. Misty began fiddling with her seatbelt, Mando pressed some buttons on the dash. But the ship shifted, and everyone froze. The ship tilted, and the ice below us broke. The ship plummeted for a few seconds and fell hard onto another layer of ice. Misty fell from her chair, having gotten herself unbuckled, and the Mandalorian slammed head-first into the dash and lay still. I seemed to be the only conscious one for the moment.</p><p>I was no longer having the time of my life. I was cold and scared. I unbuckled myself and checked on Misty, who had begun to shiver violently. I looked around for a blanket but found none. I turned to the Mandalorian. He lay like a dead man. I walked to him, took his hand, and found his pulse. He was alive, at least. I grabbed his shoulders, the beskar of his armor already so cold it felt like my fingers were burning. I heaved him back against his chair and looked at the dash. Nothing I could do, I figured. I set the fuel meter to conserve mode and turned from the dash. I looked at the Mandalorian.</p><p>He was still unconscious, I had the urge to see what he looked like under his helmet. I stood for a beat, and then another. His head was tilted to one side, and his shirt’s neck didn’t cover all his skin there. It looked rather plain. It was the skin of a man. It wasn’t green like the baby. Like I’d half been expecting. </p><p>I knew that some Mandalorians didn’t take off their helmets. I didn’t know if this Mandalorian was one of those, or if he just didn’t like showing his face. Either way, I understood that it wasn’t my choice to make. So, I turned from him and walked to Misty, who seemed at least vaguely awake. I signed to her that I'd go find a blanket for her. She shakily signed something about her eggs. I signed that I’d wrap them up too. She seemed satisfied. </p><p>I slid down the side rails of the ladder down into the cargo hold of Mando’s ship. The place was a mess, the hull had been breached in many places, and snow and cold air were blowing in. I wished I’d gotten some pants and a new shirt while in Mos Eisley. I found some blankets and searched around for Misty’s eggs. I found them under a blanket, and when I uncovered them I screamed something even I wasn’t really sure of. Standing on a box just next to the egg container was the Mandalorain’s son, putting one of Misty’s eggs in his mouth. He looked up at me and burped. I said more unintelligible garbage and quickly shut the container. The child looked up at me.</p><p>“You- don’t eat these ever again! They’re Misty’s children. They are NOT food,” I whispered at the kid and pointed a finger in his face. I picked up the eggs and put them on my back, and tied the blankets around myself so my hands would be free to climb up into the cab. I turned to the child and pointed at him. “I’ll be right back down for you. Don’t move, you understand?”</p><p>The child tilted his head and I rolled my eyes. I climbed back up into the cab and set the eggs down next to Misty and untied the blankets. Misty took one from me and I wrapped one around the egg container. A modulated moan drew my attention. I looked over at the Mandalorian, who was moving slightly. Then, he moved his head a little, and almost in an instant, he was on his feet, looking around wildly. </p><p>“Where's-” He began.</p><p>“He’s fine. He’s downstairs, I was just about to get him,” I interrupted. He hurried to the ladder and slid down, out of sight. </p><p>---</p><p>We gathered in the ruined cargo hull of the Razor Crest. It was deliriously cold. Mando distributed food, talked about the future for a bit, and sat. Misty began talking to him, but shook his head and looked out the gaping hole in his ship.</p><p>Misty turned to me and tapped on her eggs’ container. ‘Too cold. They’re not doing well. We have to get out of here so they don’t die.’ she signed to me and I nodded. I signed; ‘we’ll figure something out.’</p><p>I turned to Mando. “She says her eggs are in danger of freezing to death. We need to get them out of here,” I said and he looked at me sharply.</p><p>“You understand her?”</p><p>“Not her spoken language. She knows Common sign language,” I replied. Mando didn’t say anything right away, just tilted his head and sighed.</p><p>“There isn’t anything we can do for now. I’ll know more at nightfall. You two should try and get some sleep,” He said and looked back out at the snow. The baby crawled into his lap and grabbed his cape for warmth. I stared at him for a moment and then sighed.</p><p>“There has to be something we can do,” I said, and Mando shook his head.</p><p>“Not right now.”</p><p>I felt a little spark of anger rise in me for a moment, but it went out as quickly as it lit. I sighed and pulled my blanket around me tighter. I walked as far away from an open hole in the ship as I could, and curled up as comfortably as I could. Before I went to sleep I unbraided my hair. It was oily, it had been several weeks since I’d had a proper shower, but the loose hair would help keep me warm. Once that added layer of protection was in place, I somehow found sleep. </p><p>---</p><p>“Wake up Mandalorian,” an unknown voice said. I flailed for a second, having forgotten where I was and how I'd gotten there. The voice was metallic, flat, but there was another sound behind it. Misty was talking. I pointed myself towards the voice and saw the Mandalorian pointing a blaster at the wall. Hanging on the wall was a dismembered droid, and Misty stood just beside it, speaking into a small microphone. “This cannot wait until morning. Do not be alarmed, I bypassed the droid’s security protocol and accessed its vocabulater.”</p><p>Mando glanced between the droid and Misty and slowly holstered his blaster. “What the hell are you doing?! That droid is a killer.”</p><p>“These eggs are the last brood of my lifecycle. My husband has risked his life to carve out an existence for us on the only planet that is hospitable to our species. We fought too hard and for too long to resign ourselves to the extinction of our family line. I must demand that you hold true to the deal that you agreed to,” Misty stressed. Once she was finished speaking, she made some strange little sighs soaked with fear and sadness that broke my heart. </p><p>“Look, lady, the deal is off,” the Mandalorian said and paused. “We’ll be lucky if we get off this frozen tomb with our lives.”</p><p>“I thought honoring one’s word was a part of the Mandalorian code,” Misty replied. Her croaking noises grew angrier, but the droid’s metallic voice stayed at the same disinterested level. “I guess those are just stories for children.”</p><p>The Mandalorian looked down at his child, still sitting on his lap, and sighed. He set his son down, stood up, and grabbed a toolbox from the floor. He gave Misty a long look, and I’d bet my life on the fact that Mando was glaring. Then, he looked over at me.</p><p>“You’re good at disassembling ships. You got any skill in fixing them?” He asked. I stood from and pulled my blanket around me and nodded.</p><p>“Some,” I replied. “I’m no professional, but I have a little experience.” </p><p>“Great,” Mando pointed at another toolbox near my feet. “Grab that and follow me.”</p><p>I did as I was told</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Story of My Loss, or, A Mandalorian’s Soliloquy on Pain</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Helping the Mandalorian fix the ship was strangely comforting. He worked, gave me little tasks to do, had me hand him tools when he needed them. It reminded me of working on my brother’s ship. Good days, long passed. </p><p>“You ok?” Mando asked. His hand was touching my fingers the slightest bit, and for a few seconds I wasn’t sure why. Then I realized I had a death grip on a wrench he needed. He was warm. I released the wrench and the Mandalorian slowly took it away.</p><p>“What?” I said, my voice a little hoarse. Mando started working on whatever he needed the wrench for. I quickly cleared my throat.</p><p>“You don’t look so good.” He said. I pursued my lips.</p><p>“Fine. I’m fine,” I replied. Mando gave me a long look. I sighed. “Working on this ship reminded me of home. And it kinda caught me off guard. I’m sorry.”</p><p>“If you need to, you can go inside,” the Mandalorian suggested but I shook my head.</p><p>“I want to help. Being still only makes it harder,” I said and the Mandalorian nodded.</p><p>“I get it. Hand me the duct tape?” He asked. I handed him the silver roll. He tore off a piece and patched something flexible in the dark of the machine. “You know that isn’t a healthy way of dealing.”</p><p>I raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t look my way. He reached over and handed me the wrench. I put it away.</p><p>“Philips?” he asked. I found the screwdriver and handed it to him. </p><p>“How do you know what’s good for me?” I asked. Mando did something rigorous in the panel and grunted before leaning back.</p><p>“Being busy doesn’t help forever. You can fill your time fiddling with tools or the dash of a ship, making things, asking questions, none of it fixes you in the way you’re looking for,” Mando stood from the panel and tossed the screwdriver into the tool box. He stood to full height and looked down at me. “I won’t pretend to know what you’re running from, but I recognize someone who doesn’t want to think about something they’ve lost.”</p><p>“You sound so very sure,” I said, folding my arms. </p><p>“My parents,” He said by way of explanation. What little bravado his little speech had inspired in my heart left, and I nodded. “I was a foundling. The Mandalorians raised me.”</p><p>“When your folks couldn’t,” I said, and the Mandalorian nodded. He picked up his tool box and I picked up mine. I looked at the dark glass that hid his eyes. “I have a question that I’m not sure you’ll want to answer.”</p><p>“You can ask,” Mando said. “I just might not say.”<br/>I smiled and paused for a moment. “What is your name?” I asked. He looked at the side of the Razor Crest for a moment. The ice cave was very quiet. I could hear the wind, and the Mandalorian’s breath. It didn’t feel like he was blowing off my question though. It was simply a moment between.</p><p>The silence was broken by the child. I whipped around. He looked upset.</p><p>“What is it?” Mando asked. The child looked inside the ship from where he’d come, and looked back out at us. The Mandalorian beckoned him forward. “Come here.”</p><p>The child walked around the ship and out of sight. Mando followed him, and I slid through a crack in the hull to check on Misty. I looked around, but she was gone. So were her eggs. I ran out the open loading bay door, and looked around for Mando. He was kneeling in the snow next to his son.</p><p>“Mando, Misty’s gone!” I shouted and he looked at me over his shoulder.</p><p>“Misty?” he asked. I sighed.</p><p>“I forgot to tell you her name, didn’t I?”</p><p>“I guess so,” he said. He scooped up his son, looked at me, and tossed his head in the direction of a path of footprints in the snow that I hadn’t noticed before. I jogged down the ramp and stood next to the Mandalorian. He pointed into the dim cave. I squinted. “Footprints.”</p><p>We walked into the darkness and soon I could see a little better. It was dark, but the blue cave ice let enough light in that it wasn’t too difficult to see. Mando led the way, he could see her footprints better in the dark. We walked for a long time. </p><p>We came to a fork in the path, and the Mandalorian put his arm out to stop me in his tracks. We listened to the wind, and a weird feeling came over me. </p><p>“Is it getting warmer?” I breathed, and Mando nodded. We walked into a larger room, and caught sight of Misty in some kind of hot spring. Mando walked into the room towards the pool quickly.</p><p>“You need to stay in the ship, it's not safe out here,” He said, his boots crunching in the snow. I followed. Mando set his son down next to the water and knelt. Misty’s eggs floated in the warm water, which smelled vaguely sulfuric. The warmth must come from deep within the planet. Mando reached into the water and started scooping the eggs out and depositing them in the egg tank. Misty complained with her voice. “I know it’s warm but we have to get back to the ship.”</p><p> </p><p>I walked up and started to help, enjoying the warm water on my freezing hands. I looked over at the child. He was reaching for an egg. Reached over and grabbed the two eggs that were close to him at the same moment that Mando was reaching over to scold him. We shared a momentary look. I’m not sure what his face looked like, but I know I felt a little sick. I took the two eggs and put them in the backpack tank. The child indignantly wandered off, and we continued working on getting Misty’s eggs back into the container.</p><p>It didn’t seem to take very long, work that needs to be done quickly never does. Just as the final egg was dropped into the tank, the baby came running towards us, making a heartbreaking wailing noise. I walked over to him and picked him up, and walked back to Mando and Misty. I looked at their faces, but neither of them were looking at me. Misty grabbed her clothes from the side of the spring with her tongue, jumped from the water and dressed quickly. I turned and looked behind me, and froze.</p><p>Hundreds of spider-like creatures were crawling out of the dark. I stumbled backwards and fell on my ass. Mando scooped up Misty’s eggs, and started backing towards the tunnel entrance. I scrambled to my feet, clutching the baby in my arms. More and more spiders spilled out of the darkest part of the tunnel beyond, and they got bigger and bigger over time. A thump of something very heavy thundered from the mouth of the tunnel, and a spider crawled out. This spider was very large. Think big enough to eat the Razor Crest. </p><p>Mando was shouting something, but all I heard was the whine of tinnitus and the roar of the spider as it began to charge. Suddenly Mando’s hand was gripping my shoulder, “Run!” He was yelling. “Go!” </p><p>And then I was running. I was right on Misty’s heals, and the Mandalorian was just behind us. The millions of smaller spiders were all around as we ran, and mama-spider was stomping around somewhere above us, raining chunks of ice everywhere. We ran, and Mando overtook us with his blasters firing at the largest of the spiders small enough to follow us through the passage. My vision blurred with tears, I was gasping for air, and the baby was making fearful noises in my arms. At one point, I danced out of the path of a string of web shot by the mama-spider, I was inches from having gotten stuck. At that moment, I silently thanked my dancing teacher on Daphne. If I wasn’t quick on my feet and didn’t know how to move myself effectively, I’d have died. </p><p>Mando threw something out to either side of our running party, ran backwards for a moment and threw a third thing at the ceiling of the ice cave and everything behind us blew up. I glanced back and saw the mama-spider engulfed in yellow flame, collapsing. Well, I saw a blurred approximation of such an event. Periodically, Mando would turn towards the tide of spiders and bathe them in fire from his hand. I also only saw this blurrily. </p><p>We made it back to the Razor Crest. I ran inside and ascended the ladder to the cab as quickly as possible, followed closely by Misty and Mando. He was shooting at spiders, but a few were getting in around him. He was clearly approaching the end of his rope. Misty was shooting at some of the spiders with a blaster she’d previously concealed. There were still more spiders than both of them could kill at their distinct rates. I set the child down on a seat, walked over to the Mandalorian. One of his hands was busy trying to close the door, and the other held a blaster. He had two. I grabbed the other blaster from it’s holster and started shooting. </p><p>The Mandalorian sprayed fire on the hoard of spiders, and the door finally shut. He quickly dispatched that last couple spiders that had made it in, and planted himself in the pilot’s seat.</p><p>“I’ve got limited visibility, so this is going to be a bumpy ride,” Mando said. I picked up the child and sat where on my chair, and strapped myself in. I held onto the child. The ship rumbled to life and began to rise.</p><p>For a moment, I thought we were home free.</p><p>Then, something immensely heavy dropped onto the Razor Crest. Something large, very alive, and exceptionally angry. The same thudding from the cave, and a scream of immense fury that only a mother who has lost a child, or a few thousand, can make. Two of the mama-spider’s legs pierced the cab just to either side of the Mandalorian, and withdrew. It positioned it’s down facing eyes and sucker mouth just outside the window, glaring in. It reared up and planted it’s hagfish maw onto the window, reared up again to strike harder. I curled around myself and the child, I didn’t want either of us to see the death that was sure to come. But just before the glass would have broken, had the mother-spider had time to strike again, the sound of blasterfire filled the space, and I looked up. The icy room was flashing cherry red, and the mother-spider appeared to be utterly dead. Mando stood. I prepared to stand, but he put a hand out.</p><p>“You stay here. Protect the kid,” He said and I nodded. I handed him back his blaster and he nodded as he holstered it. He left. I held the child, listening as the blaster fire died, and the Mandalorian talked to whoever saved us. Eventually he came back, and we got to fix the cab enough to get to Trask, where he could get his ship fixed further. </p><p>I helped Mando replace the window. We didn’t talk much beyond “Hand me that…” and “Here you go…” </p><p>Once we were finished, we boarded his ship and strapped in. the child sat in the Mandalorian’s lap, he made a weird joke about all of us dying by depressurized cab, and suggested we sleep.</p><p>I couldn’t sleep. I was tired, I was worn as thin as paper. It felt like every star’s light could shine right through me. The Mandalorian’s words about loss, they’d, along with his killing several thousand spiders for me, had reminded me of my brother. My brother, with shining golden hair and a bright smile. With his brain full of secrets he’d share. He shown me so much love, so much kindness. So much unending patience. His overwhelming thereness. His know-how. The more I spoke with the Mandalorian, the more I felt I was speaking to the kind of man my brother would have become. He was an older, tireder version of the person I'd loved most in the world. I was haunted. But I didn’t want this ghost to leave. I wanted to stay by the Mandalorian’s side as long as he’d let me. </p><p>“Can I tell you a story, Mandalorian?” I whispered. He tilted his head slightly, he hadn’t been sleeping either.</p><p>“Shoot,” He whispered.</p><p>“Once upon a time, there was a girl living on a planet called Daphne. She had an older brother, and a younger sister, and two parents who loved her enough to want more for her than what they could provide,” I began. I made as close to what you’d call eye contact with the Mandalorian in the reflection of the glass ahead. “This girl’s parents worked very hard to make the girl as good a lady as possible, so that she might marry above her station. The girl didn’t want to marry at all, for she was only a child when her parents began their work. The girl did not know any other way, however, and so she put up with it all. The only shining light in her life was her older brother, who taught her everything he knew, everything from repairing ships, to shooting blasters, to explaining the social structure of their world. The girl felt that her brother was more a father to her than her actual father, who rarely had time for the girl unless he had to scold her for her restlessness.”</p><p>I paused. Mando watched me. “When the girl was 15 years old, a Baron came courting. He was a grown man, more than three times the girl’s age, and she was disgusted by him. The Baron had all the worst qualities that the girl could imagine in a husband, he was fat, bloodthirsty, and hadn’t been faithful to the Baron’s previous wife, who had died under mysterious circumstances. She did not want to marry him, but her parents were pushing her to accept his proposals. The girl’s brother, a man of 20 years by that point, advised her not to marry him. He did not want to see his little sister crushed by a terrible man, who would probably have her killed as soon as she was no longer young and beautiful. The Baron got word of the brother’s advice, and challenged the brother to a duel. The brother assumed it was only a matter of honor, the Baron would aim at the sky, surely. The brother was only protecting his sister after all, what is more honorable than that?” I paused. My throat hurt, and I closed my stinging eyes.</p><p>“Then?” the Mandalorian broke the silence. I opened my eyes and wiped away the tears. </p><p>“The Baron shot the brother right between the ribs. The brother died in his younger sister’s arms, 4 hours after the duel. He was in agony until his dying breath, for the Baron had used a low energy, long beam blaster, which destroyed his insides but not efficiently enough to kill him quickly. The girl could, for once and for all, tell the Baron she would not marry him. But she found that the price of her freedom was far too high. She stayed with her family for 4 years. But then, her father let slip that the baron was still interested in marrying the girl, despite having killed the person she loved most in the world. The girl was 19-years-old, and everything she saw on a daily basis reminded her that she lived on a world that valued her so little, as to try multiple times, to marry her to the man who had killed her brother. The girl left Daphne, knowing that she would only return under a single pretense,” I whispered. I looked at my hands, and then back at the Mandalorian. “I won’t go home until I’m ready to give the baron as painful a death as he gave my brother.”</p><p>It was quiet for a long time. I wondered if the Mandalorian was asleep, he was so still and quiet. </p><p>“And it is important to you that you be the one to take his life?” The Mandalorian asked. I nodded. </p><p>“Yes,” I whispered. “I watched my brother bleed. I want to see him just as I saw my brother. I want to see the relief in his most recent child bride’s eyes.”</p><p>“A man like that catches enemies,” the Mandalorian said. “He’s around 50, has a history of killing. If you want to be the one to lay him out, I’d do it sooner rather than later.”</p><p>“I know,” I said. I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’ve been trying. I just- every time I think about going home to do it, I remember my brother. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to go home again. I don’t know if I’ll ever not miss my brother.”</p><p>The Mandalorian flipped some switches on the dash. “You’ll never stop missing him. It will hurt for the rest of your life. But it does get easier. One day, you'll have gone weeks, months even without having thought about him. And then you’ll remember him, and the pain will fall on you all over again. And it will hurt,” he said and paused. “But the pain gets easier and easier to deal with. One day you’ll be ready to go home and kill the Baron. You’ll kill him, then you’ll go sit somewhere alone, somewhere quiet, and the pain will be new again, but the pain will feel okay then. It will feel easier in a new way you’ve never imagined.”</p><p>I listened. The Mandalorian sighed “But, you’ll never stop seeing the Baron’s blood. You do not forget the sight of someone you’ve killed. Every time you close your eyes, you’ll see his life draining on your hands. Even if they truly deserved to die.”</p><p>“That is a price I am willing to pay.”</p>
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